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Kenya: Of Football Fans, Coaches And Referees
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The Nation (Nairobi)
COLUMN
10 May 2008
Posted to the web 12 May 2008
Charles Nyende
Nairobi
Last Saturday I felt like a stranger had entered my home, went to my kitchen to rustle up a meal, proceeded to my sitting room, sat down comfortably on my favourite sofa, leisurely ate before retiring to my bedroom. And there I stood, saying nothing, doing nothing.
Would a person who loves himself, is proud of who he is, and where he comes from allow such a thing to happen to him? I do not think so.
But it seemed like Kenyans allowed that to happen to them last Saturday during the African Youth Championship qualifier held at Nyayo National Stadium, Nairobi.
It was our home match against minnows Somalia, played at a central location within the city. The weather was excellent, perfect for a day out for the family.
Yet, we Kenyans saw little need in going to Nyayo Stadium to cheer our brethren to victory. Instead, we allowed supporters of a foreign team to take over our stadium, ruling the stands like it was their sitting room.
A visitor at Nyayo Stadium on that day would have been forgiven thinking he was somewhere in Somalia. Save for the familiar yellow line, the writings No. 9 and blaring, pounding music coming from the Eastleigh matatus that zoomed into the stadium, hones honking, to spew their passengers, everything else was, well Somali.
Hordes of the noisy Somali fans who disembarked from the public vehicles to join their compatriots who had come by other means exhibited feverish patriotism. They looked organised, waving the numerous blue Somalia flags as they danced and sang, urged on by several throbbing drumbeats.
In comparison, the Kenyans who bothered to attend the match were docile and quiet. Excuse me, did I say this was a football match? When the referee blew his whistle to start the encounter, the mighty roar that rose from the blue sea of fans on the Somali stand left little doubt who was in charge. By my estimate Kenyans were outnumbered two to one.
One scene captured it all. Some poor fellow, probably a Kenyan-Somali, made the mistake of brandishing a Kenyan flag in front of the Somali section.
Like a gaggle of angry geese chasing an intruder away the visitors promptly roughed him up, confident in their numbers, before an unceremonious and humiliating eviction. The Kenyan supporters did not do more than glance at the commotion.
Sports is known to have a strong mobilizing effect. It brings together people of diverse backgrounds and interest. When it involves a national team, the attraction is supposed to be profound. Somalia showed us how.
But in Kenya for some strange reason, we have decided to feel nothing about our own. You tell me where, we get a chance to show unbridled public feelings for our country other than in a sport meet?
Maybe we have given up on our country which may explain why many Kenyans are eager to leave. We seem to have lost that basic collective feeling of "we". What is it really to be Kenyan? Shame on us.
Let's criticise!
Being a referee in any sport is a thankless job. The men in the middle, as they are sometimes referred to, can never please everybody.
Apparently, the referees are not satisfying some Kenyan Premier League coaches.
Jacob "Ghost" Mulee, Gabriel Njoroge, John "Bobby" Ogolla, Nick Yakhama have all come out publicly criticising the officials for perceived incompetence.
Well, go for it coaches, with hammers and tongs.
While we are at it, let us also criticise you coaches for some woeful football from some of your products who cannot even master the basic skills of ball control.
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Yes, what is wrong with our players? Is it that we cannot produce naturally gifted players and have to settle for guys who are better of playing darts?
Is there any sense in playing a league match inside a 60,000 capacity stadium where only a handful of fans attend?
Are the organisers sane? Life is a drudgery. Man, there is so much to complain about.
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